


Flight of an Arrow

by Auwynn



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, I don't know what else to add yet, I'll see what need be added with time yeye, M/M, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-04
Updated: 2015-11-04
Packaged: 2018-01-21 20:28:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1562999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Auwynn/pseuds/Auwynn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jean has always wanted an easy life. Going to college away from his parents, from his hometown, from his state, just 'cause. He thinks he's going to have it easy in college.</p><p>He doesn't think his freckled roommate will impact his life at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My very first multi-chapter fanfiction, so bear with me if it sucks or if I'm slow at updating it. Granted you even like it and read it, and if you do, thank you! ;__;  
> Thanks to Annie for beta testing and mental support and general fangirling over my writing, it makes me ureshii desu. ( / u \ )

Jean was never one to stress a lot over things like exams or meeting new people. He was pretty social: he never missed an occasion to make new friends, always attended the parties he could go to; because he always gave himself the time to study, which brings us to what he’s stressing over right now: university.

He easily passed the entrance exam, aced his senior high school year with a perfect record and was his promotion’s valedictorian, so he could virtually go to any university he wanted. It’s not that he was a witty or extraordinarily smart person, he just knew his way around studying and memorizing what’s important. Jean didn’t really have any hobby, as he wasn’t particularly interested in anything specific. He tried himself at many things but got bored, and decided he would consecrate his free time to studying whenever he wasn’t hanging out with his friends. His concern was to allow himself the range of choosing a career that was easy, something that could procure him financial safety, an easy life with no problems or issues. The safest was a language major. He could teach German in high school, maybe in university, settle down with a loving wife, have two kids, never meddle with useless matters. He wanted it easy, because his parents had it hard, and he didn’t want that.

He, however, did not know how anxious it would make him to leave his house, let alone his state, for four years. For Jean Kirschtein, _the_ adept of simplicity, to leave Florida and travel all the way to California with all his belongings and probably come back home very rarely, that was really stupid. He didn’t tell himself that, though. He told himself that he wanted to try something new, because he got bored with Florida’s icky, humid weather, and his neighborhoods whom he visited too many a time to enjoy their company again.

And now he’s standing in a line waiting for his dorm room key, shifting balance on his feet and nervously checking his phone. It was already 4:50 in the afternoon, and despite still having orientation days before classes start, he didn’t want to be in his room too late. He wanted his bed sheets spread, his drawers filled, his clothes hanged. He wanted to be done settling in his room and meeting his roommate as soon as possible so he could rest before dinner.

It was Jean’s turn to get to the desk and request his key, startling when he was asked his housing information (he forgot how to English). He handed his paper to the assistant and shakily left the counter, awkwardly smiling at the lady when she called for him to pick up his key which he’d forgotten.

What a good start for a new life.

After a frustrating 20 minutes of driving around campus to find his building, he unloaded his car and thanked the world for his room being on the ground floor. Jean tactfully forgot to knock on the door, for he was too excited and scared to start his college life, and barged in on someone playing the guitar.

Someone who was seemingly too absorbed by hitting the strings and humming a song with his eyes closed to pay attention to Jean. All he really noticed was the two large French doors, and how they lit the room with a dim orange shade that made him hazy. He was already tired from traveling across the entire country _and_ unloading his car. Jean stood at the threshold for a good five minutes just listening to his soon-to-be roommate playing a song he didn’t recognize, until he lifted his head and took his headphones off to look at him.

The first thing Jean noticed was the ridiculous amount of freckles on his face, it was as if someone picked up his cheeks and airbrushed over them in brown. His skin had a slightly darker complexion, which surprisingly matched his hazel irises. His hair was short, as he could tell from the rare tufts that sneaked their way out from under his red beanie. Whatever else Jean noticed was a blur of white, red and dark blue as he shifted his gaze from his chest to his eyes when the boy spoke out.

“Oh sorry, I didn’t see or hear you coming in. You must be Jean Kir…schtein, right?” he said, with an embarrassed smile as he tried to pronounce his name. “I’m Marco Bodt, nice to meet you,” he added with an extended hand. Jean took it in his own, awkwardly nodding at the galaxy-faced boy.

 

\---

 

“So where are you from?” Marco asked, sluggishly getting off his bed to unpack his clothes, while Jean was busy stacking his clothes into the closet. “I’m from Tempa, Florida,” he said, amused by the surprised look on Marco’s face. “Yes, I know, it’s a long way from here, but this university sounded interesting to me, and I was bored with the _east coast_. What about you?”

“Me? Oh, well, I’m actually from Germany. My parents and I moved here when I was four years old. Sad enough to say that I lost all of my skills at the language,” he replied with a shrug. “But I do live here, a few miles away from the university, actually.”

Jean smiled. He felt a certain rush of satisfaction, for his roommate seems to be a pretty decent person. And they seemed to have things in common too, so he’s going to have something to talk about for the first few days, at least. He started unpacking his bed sheets and spread them on the mattress until Marco came up to his side and suggested to help him do his bed. “I feel like an ass, just talking to you and watching you do all of this without helping when all I have to do is unpack my clothes,” he said, with a sheepish smile to convince Jean to let him help. “I doubt the beds are any different here than at home, but thanks anyway.” With a wide smile, he filled his pillow cases, threw himself on his bed and closed his eyes, way too tired from the ride to do anything else for at least another two hours.

"I advise you not to sleep now, I’m taking all of you guys from the dorm out for dinner to get to know each other,” Marco said, enjoying the look of confusion on Jean’s face. “What do you mean, you’re taking all of us…?” he asked with a raised eyebrow, face almost smashed against his arm. “Hi, I’m your RA, nice to meet you,” Marco answered with a smirk, earning a snort from his roommate, who promptly turned to the wall and made himself comfortable on his pillow. “Wake me up when you’re ready to go, then.”

 

\---

 

“You have _got_ to be fucking kidding me. Jaeger? In the same university as me? In the same _dorm_?!” Jean mumbled under his breath, eyeing Eren with what seems to be a raging fury in his eyes. They were classmates in Florida, and he hated him. He always pissed him off and tried to bring up fights with him. And it’s an understatement to say Jean never had the upper hand because, really, he never won. “Yo, Horseface Kirchstein! Nice to see you again.”

 _I swear to God I will rip that smug smile off your face and feed it to a pig_ , Jean thought but dared not say out loud. “You guys know each other already?” Marco asked, looking back and forth between both of them. “Yeah. And we don’t like each other,” Jean answered with a grunt, shoving his fists into his pockets and looking away. He feels like Eren has it in for him, and he’s convinced he’s most likely doing everything he can just to piss him off, because of course, anyone would throw their future away just to spite you. Marco chuckled at his reaction and pat their backs, pushing them ahead and past the door of the dorm. “Come on, guys. You’re in university now, you’ll have plenty of time to turn into mature adults and stop bickering like kids, alright? As for now I’m hungry enough that I’d need to eat an entire bear.”

While on their way to the restaurant, Jean was silent as a wall, taking in the details of the people and the scenery around him. It was getting dark, yet the summer sun was still coloring the sky in shades of purple and red. The ground was cracked in some spots, either because of the frequent earthquakes, or the lack of maintenance; Jean guessed it was both. Armin was in a really lively conversation with Connie and Eren about Marvel comics, and debating whether or not Deadpool was more amazing than Spiderman. Bertholdt and Reiner were discussing the results of the previous football season and their prognostics about the upcoming NFL season. That leaves Jean and Marco, walking behind everyone else, talking about, well, everything and anything that comes to mind.

“So, you said you actually grew up in Germany?” Jean asked, feeling awkward about not having anything to do with his hands, not wanting to be disrespectful by picking his phone out of his pocket. Marco had his hands in his front pockets, staring at the road in front of him. “I did, yes,” he answered with a chuckle. “Enough for me to become a toddler and leave the entire continent because of my dad’s work. He and my mom were too busy with work to be home, so I never could talk to them in German, to the point I ended up losing the language.”

That reflection made Jean think about Germany. He’d never been there before, and never had his parents mentioned going there for summer vacation at all. He thought, perhaps, it was because of something that happened to them before they settled in the US. “I see. Is there anything you can say in German though?” Jean asked, crossing his arms over his chest as if defying Marco to spit out a correct sentence in German. “Oh gosh, uhm… ack, I really suck at this but, ich lieben Gitarre zu spielen?” he said with a face, biting his lower lip awaiting Jean’s verdict, who just threw his head back and laughed. “You said it with such an American accent, I just can’t let that slide,” he spat out between two breaths. “And it’s ich _liebe_ Gitarre zu spielen. _Lieben_ is the word ‘love’, _liebe_ is the verb. Not bad for someone who’s awful at German.”

“Awful? You mean downright terribad! I can’t believe I made such a beginner’s mistake, I’m a disgrace to my country, argh,” Marco nearly shouted, running his palms over his face, his shoulders shaking in laughter. And that is how they spent the rest of their evening, talking about Germany, comic superheroes, and football, while stuffing their faces full of nachos and pizza. Jean nearly emptied his glass of Dr. Pepper on Eren’s face when the latter started boasting about how he broke the former’s nose at least twice a month. But by midnight, the evening was winding down, and a soft breeze swooshed through the trees and bushes.

The whole crew came back to their dorm, barely standing on two legs with their stomachs full and their limbs tired, each of them crawling his way back to his room and on his bed. Jean and Marco were no exception to the rule, and almost bailed out on brushing their teeth once they saw just how appealingly comfortable their beds looked. Once settled over their sheets, Marco grabbed his ear buds and phone and turned his light off, leaving Jean to assume listening to music sets him to sleep. He almost jumped off his bed when Marco spoke up. “By the way, forgot to ask: orientation starts tomorrow, and you better attend it if you want to know your way around this university. I’ll be doing the campus tours so if you want to come with me, I can wake you up tomorrow?”

Jean agreed to the plan and switched his light off, turning to the wall to try and sleep his excitement away. He closed his eyes, the faint sound of wind and crickets lulling him into a deep sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean doesn't get any sleep, everyone goes on a treasure hunt and gets drunk. Oh, and a certain freckle faced boy develops a crush.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To anyone who gave a kudos to this fanfic, thank you so much! They're not that many but it gives me hope to see that people read the first chapter anyway. ;__;
> 
> Big big thanks to Aiden ([hachidorikun](http://hachidorikun.tumblr.com/)) for helping me not get too OOC and for giving me ideas for the lunch time dialogs. Thank you munchkin ♥
> 
> It took me a month to get inspired again, so the beginning of this chapter might be veeeery sloppy and awful, but I don't care, I got the chapter done, that's enough for me. I hope it was /at least/ a little funny and made you laugh? ;_;

The comfortable night’s sleep Jean was expecting to have didn’t quite go the way he expected. The excitement of starting university didn’t seep away yet, and only when he started dozing off he realized he’d never sleep in his bed at home at least until winter break.

He decided to spend the rest of his time watching videos on YouTube and playing games on his phone, until the sun rose and the birds started chirping loud enough to see Marco twist and turn on his bed. Jean couldn’t help but stare at the way he couldn’t stay in one position for more than twenty minutes, but given how hot it was, he didn’t think much of it. Except when he almost choked on his own breath when Marco almost fell off the bed or splattered himself against the wall to cool himself down.

An alarm went off at 8 am, and the freckled boy hurriedly turned it off, slowly opened his eyes, and stared at Jean. “How come… you’re already up?” he mumbled as he pushed himself up and off the bed. “I fell asleep right away. Woah, I just realized I’ve been up since 2 am…” Jean replied, although it sounded more like an epiphany than anything else. “Well,” Marco said with a sleepy chuckle, “that makes my task of waking you up much easier.”

 

\---

 

The auditorium was packed full of new students. Jean was about to say out loud that he had never seen any of these people before, until he realized how stupid that sounded and just kept it to himself. His eyes wandered around, taking in the new faces that surrounded him, acknowledging the chatter of the hundreds of people in the auditorium. Jean didn’t think he’d be so disconcerted by all the changes. He had no idea it’d take him more than just two days to get over the feeling of being an alien where everyone else seemed to get along really well.

Jean nervously marched down the stairs to try and get a seat as close to the stage as possible (and, that goes without saying, as far from Eren as possible). He sat down and looked around him some more: on the stage in front of him was a long table, lined with a few chairs; to his right was a group of older students wearing matching shirts with RA printed on both sides.

Marco was one of them. He seemed to be at ease around everyone, and although very busy walking up and down the stairs and moving things, calling people or helping out freshmen, he kept a reassuring smile on his face. _So that’s what an RA has to do, eh_ , Jean thought as he took his phone out and distracted himself until some people he assumed were faculty walked in through the stage doors and sat at the tables.

Everyone sat down, turned their phones off and looked forward, paying attention to the presentation. And so did Jean.

 

\---

 

 

At lunch time, Jean found himself dragged alongside Connie and his other housemates (yes, even Eren), talking about the scavenger hunt that was organized later that day. _A scavenger hunt, huh_ , he thought. It could be nice to participate to it, make friends so he could secure himself a good reputation among the people in uni, especially the students of his promotion.

“Did you see the counsellor they have here? He’s scary! I wouldn’t want to share my worries with him,” Connie screamed over his sandwich, so loud that about three or four other tables turned to give him a puzzled look and went back to focus on their food. Armin nervously scratched at the back of his head, looking somewhat embarrassed that he brought so much attention to their table. “Come on, he doesn’t look that scary. At least he looks… professional?”

Jean gave that a thought. He could go see the counsellor from time to time, it could be nice to be able to tell someone everything that’s on your mind, and they would tell no one. _Like shit I would._ He snorted at the idea and shoved it at the back of his mind, somewhere he wouldn’t need to look for a very long time. He had relied on himself all this time, and look: he’s become a pretty healthy and normal person, hasn’t he? There wasn’t a problem in the world that he could encounter he couldn’t fix by himself, so he didn’t need to even think about stepping into his office. “Really? He doesn’t look that frightening, though,” Reiner started. “I’d say he’s pretty attractive. His undercut makes him look like he’s been in the army. Like… like a corporal or something, y’know; that’s pretty hot.”

Everyone turned around and stared at him, their mouths wide open. Except Bertholdt. No, he actually looked very flustered and turned his gaze away, the red quickly rushing to his face. “Reiner, are you—“ Connie started, widening his eyes as he nodded slightly, as if trying to infer what he was thinking by wiggling his head. “What? ‘S that so surprising that I’m gay?” he asked right before shoving some of his salad in his mouth. “I’m dating Bert by the way, so if any of you is interested, I’ll pass,” Reiner continued with a grin, eating even more salad as he stared at Bertholdt jolting up and hurriedly leaving the table. He almost missed the _oh my good god lord_ he spewed out while running away from them, red in the face as if he’d been sunburnt.

Eren and Connie burst out laughing, Armin simply chuckled, and Jean stared at Reiner destroying the poor vegetables on his plate, raising an eyebrow at how cheery and restless he had become within the past few seconds. “Oi, Reiner. Don’t get too excited, will ya? We don’t want to have the table jump in the air from you pitching a tent with your lewd thoughts,” he said, stuffing his mouth full of fries. He had expected Mount Muscle (that’s a nickname he earned himself after helping Armin move around some of his furniture) to just laugh it off, or at least make a face at him and move on to another discussion subject. But he didn’t. Instead, he was staring at him wiggling his eyebrows, as if preparing a snarky comeback. “Oh, so you’ve been looking down there, haven’t you, Kirschtein? Already know what I’m packing, how forward,” he wiggled his eyebrows once more and smirked at Jean, who got flustered very quickly, jumped off his seat and ran out the building with his tray, throwing a death stare at Eren and calling them all fucknuggets for laughing at him.

Jean walked around in front of the entrance of the restaurant until he found a bench to sit on, and decided to enjoy the rest of his meal alone. Well, until he saw Marco and some of the other RAs walking up towards the building. They’d probably just finished setting the hunt items and were taking their lunch break. Marco spotted him from afar and waved at him with a smile.

“Jean! What are you doing here? Why aren’t you with the others?” he asked, and soon after was joined by two other RAs; two girls, a blonde and a brune. “Oh, this is Annie and Ymir. They’re RAs of other houses. Annie lives in an all-girls dorm, and Ymir in one of the four coed dorms.” They respectively waved their hands at the motion of their name and stared at him, waiting for an introduction. “I’m Jean, Marco’s roommate for now,” he said, sort of inspecting the two girls. The blonde one, Annie, was pretty short, and she could be cute if she didn’t have a _don’t give a fuck_ aura about her. Ymir was pretty tall for a girl though, she wasn’t as tall as him or Marco but stood out very much next to Annie.

“And I’m eating here because the guys started acting like dumbasses, Reiner especially,” he grumbled, biting into his burger. He missed the way Marco’s face scrunched up as if he’d been punched in the stomach. He looked at his friends and gave them a slight nod. “Let’s just have lunch here then, if you don’t mind,” he proposed with a slightly forced smile.

 

\---

 

“Have fun and good luck with the hunt!”

Jean looked at his team and sighed again: two hyperactive dumbasses, a meat head, a sweaty guy, a super shy guy, and Marco. Well, Marco wasn’t in his team, strictly speaking: since the teams were divided by dorms, their RAs had to be there to see which ‘treasures’ they found and tick them off their list. Marco apologetically smiled at everyone’s protests when they found out he couldn’t help them find the treasures.

After a lot of grunting, and raging, and screaming, and running around like idiots, they made it back to their starting point, panting at an inch of their life. They had managed to get a good tenth of the items scattered around campus (which was a pretty good achievement since there were about twenty teams). They lost to Team Annie by 2 points, and were pretty bitter about it for the rest of the evening.

Going back to their dorm, Team Marco kept whimpering over their loss and how it was unfair that the prize be faster internet for a week. They most likely wouldn’t have thought that way if they had won.

“Oh guys, come on, it’s not that big of a loss,” Marco tried to cheer them up as he opened the door. He brought out the big guns. “There’s a consolation prize for the second place too,” he said with a grin.

While everyone was impatiently waiting in the living room, Marco came back from his room with an 8 pack and enjoyed everyone’s reactions. “You got us beer?!” “But how did you manage to sneak that in?” “Isn’t that illegal? We’re all underage…” “Wow, way to go, Marco!”

Freckles couldn’t help but laugh at their faces, shoulders shaking. “Calm down, okay? It’s tradition here: orientation includes making you drink beer to see just how long you last before getting drunk.” Eren grinned from ear to ear, and started shouting: “Haa, that’s never gonna be enough to get _me_ drunk, I hope you’ve got more in your room, Bodt.” Jean stared at him, trying not to jump at his throat and behead him. He was showing off again, and was pretty sure he was lying, there was no way Eren could have that strong a stomach.

25 minutes and an 8-pack later, everyone was laughing and telling stories, Jean and Eren were already very drunk, Connie was slightly tipsy (which made him very loud), Reiner, Bert and Marco were still standing strong. Armin decided to slowly sip through his beer, he didn’t enjoy the taste of it was much as the others so it took him more than an hour to get through the entire bottle. “You guys, admit it… I’m the best at everything! Look at me! One beer in and I’m still… not drunk,” Eren claimed, finishing his sentence with a hiccup. Apparently, drunkenness made him more obnoxious and pretentious than he seemed to be. As for Jean…

Well, Jean wasn’t exactly himself anymore: for one, he didn’t flare up at Eren’s shouting at all, which everyone thought was weird because he’d spent the entire hunt screaming loud and clear just how much of an idiot he was. Au contraire, he was asking himself out loud why he even hated him to begin with, and agreeing to whatever Eren claimed to be. Marco thought it was cute, endearing even, alcohol made him a completely different person.

Needless to say they were the laughing stock of the entire evening, even Armin snorted at them.

It was nearing two in the morning, and almost everyone headed back to their rooms. Marco was left alone with a very drunk and tired Jean, and had to use all of his strength to hoist him up from the couch and drag him back to their room. He wasn’t particularly heavy but it didn’t help that he was lifeless and couldn’t move at all.

Marco threw him on his bed the best he could and readjusted his legs so they were on the bed and not sprawled on the floor. He even took his shoes off. As soon as he came in contact with the bed, Jean got more relaxed and buried his face in his pillow and pushed through the mattress with his basin, almost moaning at how soft the bed seemed to have become.

Marco stared at him and bit his lower lip. He was starting to like his roommate. Again.

He looked away and decided to head to bed and try to forget all about that, forget about the sight of Jean’s curved back, his pouty face, his soft moaning. And his beautiful ass. He had to forget about that, especially.

Freckles jumped in bed, turned the lights off, facepalmed with a sigh and tried to distract himself with tomorrow’s orientation events.

 _God damn it, not again_ , he thought.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean had never experienced hangovers before, and part of him did _not_ want him to anymore. Marco, however, realized that his crush, as tiny as it may be, was going to ruin his daily life in university, perhaps a lot more than he expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The (not so) long awaited update... sorry to have kept you waiting so long, I just wasn't feeling this fanfic at all. I'm really starting to hate writing in third person, even though it is but very fitting for what I have in mind for this idea, and I'm not all that confident about my writing lately so excuse the boring chapter. ;____;

The next morning wasn’t quite as peaceful as the previous one. For one, both idiots had a hangover, Marco forgot to eat before downing a now blurry number of bottles, and Jean… well, Jean was just being an idiot, he fell face first in Marco's trap and ruined his first experience with alcohol.

An alarm rang at 8:30 a.m, quickly accompanied by painful groaning and loud complaints, coming from the entire dorm. Everyone had it bad apparently.

“Who the… fuck… is doing construction works so _early_ on a Saturday…” Jean groaned and carefully turned around, pulling his blanket over his head, as if that helped to muffle the sound of the alarm. Marco slowly got up, accidentally whacked his clock off the desk in a desperate attempt to turn it off, then sighed at it. "It's Sunday, Jean..." he mumbled, running a hand over his face to fall back on his bed in a slump.

Several minutes later, give or take half an hour (mostly give), they were both something close to being awake, not to mention somewhat surviving the raging headaches and uneven thoughts. Thankfully, today’s orientation events only started at 10 a.m so they had a good enough margin to become partially functioning human beings by then. Marco took a good 20 minutes in bed, despite being conscious enough to do his bathroom routine. He just didn’t feel like it. The realization he had right before going to bed didn’t foreshadow the quietest of nights, and the nightmare he had didn’t help either. _This is exactly why everyone says a broken heart and alcohol don’t mix together_ , he thought, blankly staring at the ceiling.

“I’m done with the shower if you need to use it, Marco.” Jean startled him as he left the bathroom, almost painstakingly waddling over to his wardrobe to change. The brunette quickly got up, tried to gain some balance and walked into the bathroom to take a pause. Jean was changing, which meant he was going to be naked to some extent, which meant Marco certainly did not want to have that mental image in mind while in the shower, even less risk walking out of the shower half-naked himself. Much less a question of self-esteem, he just didn’t want Jean to stare at him too intently, and he didn’t think about taking his change of clothes with him. So he stepped out of the tiny bathroom, rushed to his own wardrobe to pick up a random t-shirt and pair of jeans, and froze.

Being hungover apparently gives you bad timing too because Marco was standing there, smack dab in the middle of the room staring at Jean trying to fit a shirt over his head, but feeling too sluggish to compute his own movements quickly had him take quite some time to pull the shirt over his head. Marco just stared at him, at how soft his skin looked, how chiseled his abs were, he especially paid attention to how cute his nipples looked. He took too long to unlock his eyes from Jean's nips, and only realized that when Jean had actually managed to put his shirt on and not mix up any of the holes. _Well, since it's already done, I might as well just get over with my shower_ , Marco thought as he hopped behind the sticky shower curtain.

_This is just my second day being back in this dorm and I'm already into him. Fuck, this year's going to be long._

\---

"Eren, hurry the fuck up! We're going to miss this morning's meeting," Jean shouted at the stairs, which only got him more angry groans from Eren upstairs and Marco behind him. "I don't mean to be an ass so early today but can you keep it quiet, Jean? I can hear my blood run through my veins with this headache."

Marco was sprawled over the couch in the living room, a bag of ice on his head to try and calm the headache down, to no avail however. "How did you even get a hangover from yesterday? You downed four beers and didn't even get tipsy, how am _I_ holding up better than you?!" Jean asked, nearly screaming into Marco's ears as he sat on the chair next to him.

"Horseface, you dumbass. Headaches aren't caused by alcohol only."

"Of course you'd know about headaches, Eren, you're one of mine."

Reiner looked at the both of them nearly punching each other, and laughed. "Wow, Jean, so now Eren's always on your mind? For a gay guy, you pass really well as a straight one, good job!" And it only took a frown and a stare from Jean to make Reiner burst out in laughter and get him killed by the entire dorm for being so loud at 9:30 in the morning. Well, almost everyone tried to murder him, Marco was just too busy facepalming internally and trying to figure out how he will manage to survive the next few years in college with those idiots.

Once on their way to the academic area, they all split in different groups according to their departments. Eren, Armin and Jean were all from the Humanities department, Connie was undecided and Bert was just a regular student, while Marco and Reiner had to prepare the afternoon activities with the other RAs. "So what are you majoring in, Jean?" Armin asked, trying to avoid for him and Eren to get all fired up again and attract the entire campus' attention to them, even though they’d both figured out that it would be useless.

“I’m doing German studies. I figured, since I already speak German, I wouldn’t mind teaching it, or even writing books about it. Seems like fun,” he shrugged. “But what about you? I’m surprised you’re in Humanities, you look more like a Science department kind of guy to me.” He really did look so to Jean though, always serious – as far as _always_ goes since they’ve only known each other a couple hours, spending his free time reading a book in Latin, was it?

“Oh, yeah, I’m actually double majoring in History and Latin. I’ll probably minor in Hebrew or Ancient Greek if I feel like I can take it,” Armin answered with a sheepish smile. Jean and Eren both came to a pause at once and looked at each other, then at Armin. "A double major, _and_ a minor? When are you ever going to breathe?!" Eren asked, talking - screaming, rather- so loud that a couple of people turned around and stared at the three of them. "Hell, I chose Communication because it was the shortest major this university offered, I want to live my life, man!"

Armin just smiled at the both of them, and Jean let out a snort. "You, in Communication? Really? Jesus, you can barely manage a conversation about _pie_ without flaring up and forcing your opinion about berry pies down someone's throat just because they said they preferred apple pie. How do you expect to close a deal on, say, a TV ad?" "You know what, Jean? I've had it up my ass with--"

Eren couldn't finish his sentence once they got near the auditorium's outer door. The counselor they had seen yesterday stood tall in front of it - despite his unimpressive height, looking around the building as if scanning the area for whatever newcomer hadn't made their way into the stuffy room, and had decided to just stroll around campus minutes before their _only_ meeting of the day. Upon hearing Eren and his soon-to-be “endless tantrum-y rant full of cussing” as Jean likes to call it, he turned around and gave him a severe stare, even though it was just a natural look on his face, really.

That alone caused the three of them to rush inside the auditorium and call it quits on their ‘conversation’.

\---

“Do we really have to join the campus tour?” Jean asked, waving his fork around to try and make his point clear. “I mean, we walked through the entire campus during the scavenger hunt and seen all of it, why a campus tour?”

“Well I agree it is kind of stupid to hold a campus tour after you’ve visited it… but you don’t actually know what purpose each building serves, so that makes sense.” Jean gave Marco a curious look, then shrugged it off. “If you say so.”

Marco sighed a little, looking at everyone eating and laughing. They were all getting used to having meals together, and they would probably make it a tradition. Everyone was getting along well, and that made him smile. He felt like he was responsible, somehow. “Are you gonna eat your fries?” “Huh—“

Marco nearly snapped his neck when he turned around to Jean, who sat next to him, eyeing his fries with great envy. “You haven’t been eating them at all and I’m pretty hungry still. Just wondering if you don’t mind me having them before Reiner snatches them and stuffs his stupid blonde face full.” Marco just looked at him in awe, as if he’d just realized Jean was next to him for nearly twenty minutes when they sat down for lunch. “Uh… yeah, I guess…” he mumbled, shifting his plate over on Jean’s tray. He hadn’t noticed much of what happened at all.

 _Maybe I’m just tired? I haven’t_ technically _gotten any good sleep lately…_

\---

“ _Seriously_? A courage test? In college?” “Holy shit, Jean, do you ever stop complaining about everything?”

Eren snapped at Jean, _again_ , to which the latter just scoffed, and Armin just awkwardly laughed at the situation. It was nearly 9 p.m., and the RAs were assembling their respective roommates in groups. They weren’t particularly happy about this event, some of them weren’t looking forward to being scared, others simply didn’t want the freshmen to think they – and extensively, their university – were as lame as that fear test sounded. They weren’t supposed to be with them, since they already knew what was going to happen, but they needed to stay around, just in case someone doesn’t feel good, that kind of problem.

Marco wasn’t especially jovial about it: the activity wasn’t particularly scary for him, but he just didn’t enjoy it. It made him feel uneasy more than scared, and tonight especially: most of his classes took place in the Humanities school building, and their dorm was assigned the first floor of it for the courage test. Now that doesn’t sound particularly daunting, but the freshmen don’t know any of the teachers yet, and they probably don’t know that the counselor’s office was in that building too, which will probably end up in a lot of trauma that will send a lot of students running to his office.

“I’m not actually looking forward to this either but… just bear with the faculty, okay? They only do this twice a year, thankfully. Let’s just get this done so we can go back to our dorm earlier, okay?” Marco led them towards the building, feeling more nervous than ever, which he thought was really stupid. Once inside the building, one thing could be noticed: it was pitch black. Well, could have been if it weren’t for the dim orange light coming from outside, but it still gave the building an eerie feeling, especially for the three freshmen who had actually never seen it from the inside before. Armin finally decided to talk after nearly an entire day of being silent (and practically invisible to everyone). “It’s a good thing Marco’s with us, we wouldn’t actually know how to get back outside…” Everyone turned around in a scare, Jean sort of yelped and Eren sort of brought his hand to his chest. Marco gently chuckled at them and led them upstairs.

The first floor was much darker than the ground floor, and it was hard to see anything except bits of the wooden floor and some of the doors. It was getting even darker as they walked farther through the corridor, and nothing really scary happened until they turned at the corner and ended up face to face with a pair of floating red eyes. It startled them a little, stealing another yelp from Jean and a snort from Eren. It was fun until the eyes disappeared and a creepy, loud laugh resonated all around them. They all pretty much tried to find someone to hang on to: surprisingly enough, Eren was the one to grab at Armin’s arm and shriek at the sound, while Jean gave a much more manly scream and pulled on the back of Marco’s sweatshirt. And Marco enjoyed it, even though he tried not to.

Once he got his heartbeat back to normal (not because of the jumpscare, mind you), he sighed. “Professor Hanji, this isn’t even your department building, what are you doing here?” The said professor gave a satisfied chuckle to them and brought up her phone to light her chin. She probably wanted to show her face, but it just ended up making her look creepier. “Oh Marco, it’s you! I wasn’t actually expecting to see you here tonight! And, well, I couldn’t stand just scaring people off in the Science building, I had to get out! Besides I just finished working on my glow-in-the-dark contact lenses and wanted to try them out. How do I look?”

She beamed at everyone, waiting for compliments, but all she got were mumbles. “Oh my _gawd_ , you guys suck! I’ll just go to the Law school instead and see if I get better results, see ya!” Hanji quickly left the group, and Jean could have sworn she was skipping past them. “Well that was weird,” he said, eyes slowly readjusting to the dark. “That was Professor Hanji Zoe, she teaches biochemistry, molecular biology and biotechnology… yeah I know, it doesn’t sound convincing the first time you meet her but she’s a good teacher, trust me.” Marco filled them in about that one time she made the entire campus smell like sulfur for an entire week because of a failed experiment as they made their way further inside the building. They found a door with very dim lighting coming out from the threshold, and measured the pros and cons of actually opening the door.

They had decided to push the door open. The hinges creaked and a scream was heard, piercing and loud, followed by a thud, then by complete silence. In the center of the room was a silhouette, short but sharp, holding what seemed to be a kitchen knife drenched in blood. The whole room, which seemed to be a computer lab, was lit solely by the faint light of one of the desktops, and the light pole outside. It flickered and turned off almost as if it was meant to be, because the small silhouette turned around towards the group and gave them a satisfied hum, causing them all to scream their lungs out.

And whoever was supposed to be the corpse, laying on the floor with blood all over her dress and hair, started chuckling then laughing hysterically. Marco was quick to turn the light on, revealing the counselor, Levi Ackerman, eyeballing them with serial killer eyes, still holding onto the dripping knife, and a blonde woman who played the ‘victim’. “Uhm, Mrs. Ral… Mr. Ackerman… good to see you again.” Marco deadpanned at them, not minding the wide eyes his roommate were giving the two ‘adults’.

“Oh, Marco, I didn’t think you’d be leading this group,” the woman said, getting up and brushing any possible dust off the back of her dress, which seemed pretty useless since she was covered in fake blood anyway. “I’m Petra Ral, I teach history and anthropology, nice to meet you three.” She beamed at them, giving off a reassuring, almost motherly aura. Armin felt at peace to know his teacher wasn’t a nut job. At least not for now.

The group said their prompt goodbyes and walked back to their dorm a little faster than they normally would, Marco wincing a little as he started feeling a migraine growing.

_Again? I already took painkillers and I was fine all day… why now?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it for this chapter... I wasn't very inspired for one, my bad. ^^"  
> I promise I'll try my best for the rest of the chapters though! Once the pace picks up from this slow as eff build, things will be more interesting: for me to write and you to read.
> 
> Until then. :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reiner hates his laundry basket as much as he hates Marco.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the gargantuan wait, but school and life and complications happened. I actually had this chapter done for a couple months already but never got around to publishing it. It might not be as good or as long as I want it to be because I didn't have it in me to go through editing again, but I hope you like it nonetheless.

Reiner loudly slammed his basket on the countertop in the basement. Today was laundry day for him and Bert, the idea of a schedule still a funny one at the back of his mind, coming from the “apes” that lived with him, particularly from Marco who was the first to suggest it. He liked the idea, it put everyone at ease about worrying that the machine would be busy when they needed it; he just didn’t like that it was Marco that came up with it. For no absolute reason at all, of course.

“This’ll be the third one in a month if you break it again, Reiner,” Bertolt walked in, his own light green laundry basket cradled under his right arm. He gave Reiner a puzzled look and softly set his basket next to the blonde’s. “Everything okay?”

“Uh?” Reiner was taken aback by his question, still not used to how much of him Bertolt could read. He could read him like a dictionary, only needed one glance at his face to tell if something was off. He loved that of course, but that doesn’t mean he couldn’t surprise him or help worrying him. “Oh. Well… I don’t know, I’m just annoyed.”

“What did the poor laundry basket ever do to you?” Bert said with a smile, his attempt at a joke met with a groan and a pulled tongue. “Is it Marco again?” He hoisted himself up on the counter, sitting next to the washing machine, and stared at Reiner’s hands fidgeting through his dirty clothes. Bert saw through him, again. He hated it.

With a sigh, he picked a ketchup stained navy blue polo into his balled fist and punched it into the rest of the bunch. “I don’t know. Ugh, it’s like the simple fact that he exists is pushing all the wrong buttons in my system.”

“Has he done anything in particular to piss you off, though?”

“I never said I was pissed off!” Bertolt arched an eyebrow and gave him a motherly ‘stop lying to me’ look. “Okay fine, _yes_ I am pissed. He’s just… he looks like he’s so full of himself, just because he’s the senior RA for the semester.” With a sigh, he looked down at his basket and played with the handles. “It’s like, as soon as Jean came in, he completely forgot about what _we_ had, and the fact that he’s supposed to be sad.”

Mechanically, he started putting his laundry in the machine, crumpling each and every piece of underwear in his fist before throwing it in.

“So, you want him to be jealous?” Bert asked, an eyebrow raised again at Reiner as he rummaged through his own clothes and threw his underwear in. “What? No, why would I—”

“You said it yourself, he’s _supposed_ to be sad and miserable. Why do you want him to hurt so much?” Reiner looked up at him and quickly averted his gaze. Bertolt was giving him such a concerned look, he couldn’t keep eye contact for long.

“I don’t know, okay? I. Don’t. Know. I feel like he deserves it, even though…” “Even though he did nothing wrong?” Reiner sighed again, because Bert was right. He didn’t want to have this talk for the umpteenth time, regardless of how much he needed to reason with himself, but it needed to happen. He couldn’t handle Marco’s presence anymore and something had to be done about it. Reiner walked up to the brunette and stood between his legs, resting his hand on either side of the boy’s hips. Bertolt immediately took to stroking his hair, which Reiner liked because it always calmed him down.

“You know I never agreed to date you right after you broke up with Marco because it was too painful, right? Not because I didn’t like you, hell, I was crazy for you, but I _have_ been through more than one breakup where I was the receiving end. It sucks big time.” Reiner looked up at him. He had never been through it, he was always the one to deliver the ‘bad news’ so he had no idea what it was like. He felt a pang of regret tug at his heart, because he knew he was in the wrong but he couldn’t bring himself to accept it. “It feels like shit, you know? You’re doing so well and you think the other person is too, but then it just comes to slap you in the face. You don’t know what you did wrong and they usually offer no explanation. It doesn’t help if they start dating someone else right after.”

If they hadn’t already talked about this before, Reiner would have thought it was blame aimed at him specifically. Even though he knew it wasn’t the case, his face still crunched up. “Hey, hey,” Bert quickly reassured him and cupped the blonde’s face. “I wasn’t talking about you, even though… you did actually cut it off with Marco without giving him any closure. You think you could try and talk it out with him eventually?”

Reiner looked up at him, looking almost offended. “No. No fucking way, I don’t wanna deal with him. He’s just gonna be like ‘no I don’t wanna talk to you’ and fuck off somewhere to hang out with Jean. I don’t need to see his happy mug.”

“Happy? Reiner, why do you think he’s happy?” Bert asked, raising his eyebrow again. Reiner really hated it when he did that, but he also thought it was cute. Not the subject of conversation right now, though.

“Don’t you see his face, his smug smile when he says hi to everyone? Or when he’s talking to Jean?”

“Reiner, Marco is depressed.”

It took a moment for it to sink in, but Reiner eventually stopped looking at Bertolt like he was an alien. “Depressed?”

“Yes, and I don’t mean that he’s just sad. Maybe you don’t notice it because you don’t spend much time outside our room or inside the dorm at all, but if he’s not with Jean, he’s usually just sitting alone in a corner reading or drawing.” The brunette now had a worried look on his face. “He doesn’t talk to anyone like he used to when I first arrived here, he’s almost always in the room. When I pass by his door to go to the kitchen, sometimes I catch him curled up on his bed staring at the ceiling or with his face in his hands. He really is not feeling well…”

Reiner was stunned to hear that. Even he only got sad every now and then because of a movie or other people’s moods, he understood that people couldn’t always be cheerful and happy go lucky all the time. But to be told he lives under the same roof as someone who is depressed, that changed everything. Well, a lot, if not everything.

He chuckled, dubiously. “I don’t think that’s— he’s just like that, he’s always been an introvert.” Reiner couldn’t even convince himself of that. He knew it wasn’t just Marco being himself, he figured something was wrong if he shut himself up like that. “No, of course not, it has nothing to do with that. How bad is it?”

He had hoped Bert couldn’t read his face, because he was concerned. Sure, things had gone sour with Marco before they broke up, but he still hated to see him suffer. He suddenly remembered his smile, the way the corner of his eyes would crinkle when he laughed, how he would hide his face in the hollow of his elbow if they were lying in bed. Thinking about it, dating Marco was a lot of fun; they were happy but something was wrong. Every memory of him has some sort of shadow on it, as if saying that despite the looks of it, things weren’t as good as they seemed.

“You’re thinking about him, aren’t you?” Bertolt snapped him out of his reverie, cupping his right cheek with a warm hand and a warm smile. “How do you always do that?” Reiner wasn’t even annoyed at him anymore, just surprised. “How can you read me so easily every time? It’s not even creepy at this point.”

Bert sighed. “I don’t know. I’m just kind of “in tune” with you? Sounds like some bullshit you’d read on those fortune telling websites but I just _know_ you. It’s almost like your eyes change color.” He ran both his thumbs on Reiner’s eyebrows with a small smile. And when you’re concerned for someone, your brows crease a little without you even noticing. Your gaze softens when you remember something that makes you happy, or something you’re fond of.” They smiled at each other, Bert leaning in and Reiner propping himself up on his toes, the former whispering “ _like me_ ” before their lips met in a soft kiss, unable to hold their smiles back.


End file.
